


Justin Likes it Rough

by Xie



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-22
Updated: 2008-03-22
Packaged: 2018-12-26 18:01:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12064179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xie/pseuds/Xie
Summary: Justin likes not always knowing where things will go.





	Justin Likes it Rough

  
Author's notes: Written for [](http://sanami276.insanejournal.com/profile)[**sanami276**](http://sanami276.insanejournal.com/).  


* * *

**Justin Likes it Rough**  
by Xie  
  
Justin likes it rough. He likes it with sharp edges and blind curves. He likes not knowing where things will go.  
  
Justin likes the ride. Where it takes him isn't always the point.  
  
Justin likes it easy, too. He likes it with a wall against his back, or a pillow under his ass. The truth is, Justin just likes it.  
  
But some nights he feels something inside him, outside him, on his skin and coming out through his skin. Electricity, heat, something bigger than he can name, bigger than he can even paint. Those nights, what he wants is a hard cock up his ass, muscles stronger than his holding him down, the fight, the push, the sound of hand meeting skin.  
  
Justin can say "fuck me" in a thousand ways, quietly with his legs or even his eyes. Noisy, begging, hands tugging. Submissively, lying on the bed, Brian's eyes heavy on his back.  
  
But sometimes Justin's not asking, he's telling. "Fuck me," he'll hiss. And Brian will, their hands gripping each other's hair, pulling, hard. Biting at each other. Skin sliding, burning on bare floors. The edge of the table cutting into Brian's legs. Justin's ass split open by Brian's interlaced fingers, Brian's cock.  
  
"Fuck me," he'll chant, lips at Brian's ear, Brian's fingers driving hard bruises into his hips. Justin will lift himself up, and slam down again. It hurts and burns, and Justin does it again. Because at the end of the pain is the explosion, and it sends jolts of ecstasy up his spine.  
  
Some nights Brian holds him down, one hand flat on Justin's back, the other cracking against his ass and the soft insides of his thighs. Justin's skin heats up and glows, and Brian presses himself against the burn, shoves his cock in Justin with one hard thrust, pulls back on his hair.  
  
Justin loves it, fights against it just to make it harder, hotter, meaner. He'll climb on Brian's cock, hold Brian's hands over his head and drive himself down, taking it into the place where the stretch crosses into pain, where Brian can't move and Justin can't stop. Over and over until he's falling over Brian, stomach muscles rigid, mouth open, eyes closed. Everything breaking like bright glass behind his eyes.  
  
"You want it like this?" Brian's voice gets harsh, jagged. "You want me to fuck you harder?"  
  
Justin does. He arches up, heels pressing into the mattress, and Brian pins his hands over his head with one arm. Justin can't control it, isn't even trying, beyond that one word, "Harder."  
  
Brian's skin is darker than Justin's, but he's marked, too. His lips are swollen, and there's a bruise on his throat where Justin sucked his skin into his mouth, where Justin bit him, marks like Justin's fingers on his wrists.  
  
Justin likes everything rough and real. Pavement under his feet, the pinprick sting of the shower spray, the burn of scotch on the back of his throat. He likes paint thick on the canvas, and food so spicy it makes his eyes water.  
  
He likes Brian relentless and demanding, or sleeping, sweaty and dead to the world on his midnight sheets. He likes to wake up, tired, sore, still feeling it everywhere.  
  
It doesn't matter if it's love or fucking, life or art. Justin likes everything that tears him open.


End file.
